


In The Shrinking of The Tides

by TheWaffleBat



Series: So Stand Stricken [2]
Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Amnesia, Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Selectively Mute Link (Legend of Zelda), mum!Urbosa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-10-08 08:18:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17383001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWaffleBat/pseuds/TheWaffleBat
Summary: Link tried shaking it away, hugged Zarashi; she was very warm and very solid in a way that reminded him very starkly of Urbosa. Maybe it was just a case of a huge creature gentlenow, but could very easilystopif she wanted, and massive, palpable strength, but she really was being comforting in a way Urbosa had once been when he was sick and tired of Zelda trying to browbeat him into quitting as her guard, the constant, wearing fight of keeping her safe when she didn’t want him to; the weight of a whole kingdom on his shoulders when he wasn’t at all ready for that, would neverbeready.Urbosa used to help him when he was struggling. Maybe some sand seals can help too.





	In The Shrinking of The Tides

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from Edna St. Vincent Millay's _Time Does Not Bring Relief._

Link sat with the sand seals inside Gerudo Town, the ones already trained by Frelly. She and Essa didn’t mind when he sat with them during the day, helping out if they needed an extra pair of hands or happy to show them the many pictures of his horses while Wolf slept in the shade nearby, so he assumed they wouldn’t mind if he sat with them now, the desert moon arching high overhead, because he couldn’t sleep.

He’d needed the distraction after Vah Naboris and the healer for the guards, while praising his spirit, advised against going out to kill some monsters just yet. She’d at least been kind about it, as she took in whatever was lurking in his eyes, though she clucked at the burns slashing down his flank and curled down his arm; said that she was sorry, there was nothing she could do, the lightning patterns would probably scar forever. That he was lucky he’d even managed to stagger inside the Town proper; anyone else and the lightning would have killed them.

Zarashi, rumbling happily at being given extra attention, flopped over Link’s legs to be petted properly, so she was as good a distraction as any - it was easy to fall into the rhythmic brush of his hands through her short fur, combing through her dense mane. It was nice, in the same way brushing his horses was nice; soothing and methodical and it usually let him stop thinking.

The prickling of lightning down his arm didn’t let him.

The lightning scars he’d always carry with him, bright and stark across his skin, making even Bozai flinch and murmur doubts about trying to woo a woman crazy enough to earn them, itched and stung with Urbosa’s power. Not _real_ pain but close enough to it that Link scrubbed at it with his other hand to rub it away, even though it hadn’t any other time he’d tried because Urbosa sat in his head, heavy and as effortlessly powerful as black storm clouds and the roar of distant thunder.

Link tried shaking it away, hugged Zarashi; she was very warm and very solid in a way that reminded him very starkly of Urbosa. Maybe it was just a case of a huge creature gentle _now_ , but could very easily _stop_ if she wanted, and massive, palpable strength, but she really was being comforting in a way Urbosa had once been when he was sick and tired of Zelda trying to browbeat him into quitting as her guard, the constant, wearing fight of keeping her safe when she didn’t want him to; the weight of a whole kingdom on his shoulders when he wasn’t at all ready for that, would never _be_ ready.

She’d found him in the stable with Bubbles, grooming her and trying not to cry, _failing_ not to cry when Bubbles bumped her nose against his cheek in a rough-gentle attempt to wipe the tears away, making more soft, concerned noises than anyone else did for him. He tried not to feel jealous of all the concern for Zelda, and most of the time he _was_ fine, but it was hard not to feel lonely when the only people that seemed to care about how well _he_ was doing was Bubbles nibbling at his hair and Stump, the half-tailed cat, leaving dead mice by his bed.

He’d not noticed her coming close until she murmured sympathy at him, said, “Oh,” Not like she was surprised he was struggling like anyone else would, but more like an invitation for him to talk to her about it. Her embrace was a perfect, uncomfortable squeeze that she’d let him continue for a lot longer than she probably should have, or could have wanted to. It was comforting, and when Urbosa pulled away she let him babble about his horse, and the rest of the horses in the stable, and his plans to get a small farm and a dog; sat on a bale of straw and prompting him when, realising how much he was talking, he trailed off.

Zarashi wasn’t the same - she didn’t have Urbosa’s serious, half-lidded eyes when she looked up at him, the gruff kind of care that didn’t make itself obvious, didn’t need to; big and strong enough to take on the world for her people, her friends, if she needed to. She wasn’t serious, withdrawn - drawling sarcasm hiding how much she really did care, sharp wit hiding a sadness for things she’d never told them about, wasn’t given the time to trust them enough _to_ tell them. All Link had of her was scars down his arm itching with her power, her soul against his and, now, against Mipha’s, crackling with a controlled kind of energy; heavy against Mipha’s weightless, refreshing coolness, almost like a drink of cold water on a hot day when compared to the oppressive heat of Urbosa.

Link buried his hands in Zarashi’s fur, dimly remembering hair as red as Zarashi’s mane, and hands rough from work, teaching him how to properly say hello to friendly dogs and horses and cats, and whatever other animals were brought through the stables; helping out when his father wasn’t home, and still helping when he _was_ but to his stories of being a knight in Hyrule Castle, games where they fought with swords made of brooms and mops interrupting work.

Wolf, warm against his back, curled up with a soft little whine, and even Zarashi seemed to realise that Link was unhappy; she rolled on her back, still sprawled across his legs, like she thought the rough, pale skin of her belly was the way to happiness. Link pet her, scratching his nails across the coarse, leathery skin, but he didn’t feel any better because he missed Urbosa, missed her taking him aside to admire horses whenever she could see the strain start to show, teaching him how to surf the sand seals when the frustration of Zelda trying to get him to speak when he didn’t want to started to boil over, made him more determined to keep silent.

It wasn’t the desperate, yawning grief still eating at his heart that he had for Mipha, maybe would always carry for Mipha, but that didn’t make it any less an awful, dull wound; a not-pain like the itch of lightning down the scars on his arm was a not-pain, jarring and uncomfortable but not really hurting him, Something he’d always carry, but that would maybe fade if he had the time. If the goddesses would _let_ him have that time and helped him defeat Ganon because Hylia only knew he couldn’t do it on his own.

How could he hope to defeat Ganon on his own? He was a short, just-about-able-to-read Hylian who could swing a sword and apparently had fate and prophecy on his side, but fate and prophecy hadn’t done so well the first time and now he remembered very little, had a few more memories he half remembered, and still didn’t really understand anything at all about what had happened a century ago, or why _he_ was expected to save the world when there had been many more older, more experienced, more skilled knights who were _surely_ more qualified for that than him? Surely Urbosa should have gone in his stead?

She was older than him, and infinitely wiser. She was an incredible fighter on her own, and backed up by lightning she was damn near unstoppable. Her glowering alone could probably cow Ganon into defeating himself, or at least send the Guardians cringing back into dormancy so they didn’t get in the way of her storming the castle. _She_ should have been the one chosen by the Sword, not Link - she could have used it, and saved everyone, and the world would continue to turn as it should have with Zelda at her studies, a king on the throne and secure with an heir and loyal subjects, and trade coming in from every corner of the world.

Link couldn’t do that. Sometimes he thought he’d forgotten the Sheikah Slate somewhere and had a moment of panic before he realised he’d been taking pictures of dogs with it.

He continued petting Zarashi, and somehow it didn’t seem so bad with Urbosa heavy on his chest, her power at his fingertips, and with Wolf nosing his elbow and Zarashi crushing his legs beneath her weight. He’d get his memories back, he’d get better gear, he’d find the Master Sword, and he’d hunt down the shrines and get stronger. And maybe, someday, he could try.

**Author's Note:**

> The scars I'm talking about are [Lichtenberg figures](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lichtenberg_figure), which are really pretty.


End file.
